


First Day

by MrSandman



Series: Life, Love and a Boatload of Candy [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (lmaooo that tag is sending me), (this will be slash if i ever finish the series by the way), (unfortunately john winchester is here), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bad Boy Dean Winchester, Castiel is Bad at Feelings (Supernatural), Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, First Day of School, Friendship, Gen, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28082229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrSandman/pseuds/MrSandman
Summary: Creeeak. Crunch, crunch.New school, new friends, new life.OrSenior Year student Castiel Novak transfers to a high school in Lawrence, Kansas and meets quite the motley crew of new friends, as well as one rather grumpy Dean Winchester.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Gabriel (Supernatural), Castiel & Sam Winchester, Charlie Bradbury & Castiel, deancas if you squint - Relationship
Series: Life, Love and a Boatload of Candy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057280
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	First Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> So. Frankly, me posting this after six years is as much a surprise to me as I imagine it is to you, since it’s been sitting on my hard drive gathering dust since 2014, and I’ve shown no inclination to post it thus far. But then the final three episodes of the show happened and I came crawling back to the fandom, so here we are, I suppose? 
> 
> I’ve read this through and reworked some of my original plan for what is meant to be a full series, on the assumption that when I rewatch this show in a few months like the clown that I am, I’ll almost certainly pick this back up now that it’s captured my interest again! But this is very much un-beta-ed as far as I’m aware, unless savingpeoplehuntingthings read over it many years ago. 
> 
> So anyway, I hope that I’ll return to this series (with inevitable seismic shifts in tone and style), but for now, have this! 
> 
> P.S. Ages and age gaps have been messed with so that Sam is in high school at the same time as Dean/Cas can join them at the start of the school year/other assorted characters can join the mix. I’m British, no longer at school and only familiar with US high schools insofar as American shows/films and friends from the US have been able to inform me. An attempt was made to keep to US English vocabulary, but I can almost certainly guarantee that the spellings won’t be. Feel free to pick me up on anything glaring!

_Creeeak. Crunch, crunch._

New school, new friends, new life. 

Castiel slammed the car door behind him, nodding to his family's chauffeur. Immediately, he was hyper-aware of everyone staring at him. The new kid in school, halfway through a semester. 

_Breathe, Castiel. Breathe._ It wasn't the first time Castiel had changed school, but Lawrence High was the first public school he had attended.

And it was certainly daunting. He could feel his peers' eyes on him, burning stares from every direction. He would make sure that the chauffeur dropped him off a couple of blocks away in the future. As the car drove away, Castiel took a step towards the cluster of buildings before him. He was still wary of the other students, and they of him.

He was looking out towards the sprawling sports fields when somebody crashed into him, scattering his books around him. With a hurried "sorry" they were on their way and Castiel was left to pick up his stuff, his face red with embarrassment.

The excitement of his arrival had worn off for most people, and they were now on their way to classes. Castiel made for what looked like the administration building, ignoring the gaze of the remaining students. Stepping through the door into the well-heated office, Castiel glanced around, hoping he wouldn't have company. Thankfully, only the receptionist sat at a desk on the far side stared back at him, her eyes kind. 

"First day?" Her voice was sympathetic, and although Castiel wanted to feel insulted at her patronising tone, he couldn't help but like this woman a little. "Well, let me get you your timetable, and a plan of the building, and send you off in the right direction. What's your name?"

"Castiel Novak, ma'am," he said, standing up a little straighter.

"Oh please, ma'am makes me sound like an old lady. Call me Lisa." She smiled, and lent over the desk to retrieve a handful of papers with a _crackle._

"Here you go, Castiel. Now, I presume you know how to get to the main building, but once you get inside, take the first left. You'll just be in time for your first class, which is first door on your left. Good luck!"

"Thank you, Lisa," Castiel replied shyly, stepping towards the door unwillingly. 

Stepping back out into the cold, Castiel shivered slightly despite the heavy trench-coat practically smothering him. There were only a few stragglers still outside and Castiel hurried past them, making for the large double doors which marked the main entrance, propped open to accommodate the torrent of students.

Taking the first left inside the building he walked swiftly down the corridor, anxious not to be any later to his first class. He mentally prepared himself for the curious looks he was sure to get from his new classmates, his face already heating up in anticipation. 

It wasn't so much that Castiel was shy; rather, he was absolutely _terrified_ of excess attention being paid to him. He should've been used to it, what with the amount of times he'd had to move school, but he still couldn't block out the burning stares directed his way when he entered his class. It was Mythology, one of Castiel's favourite subjects, and he hoped that it would be a little less tedious than at his old school, where the professor was practically coated in a layer of dust and they never even got past early Greek mythology. 

Someone cleared their throat and Castiel turned to see his new teacher, feet propped up on the desk and huge dusty book cradled almost reverently in his arms. "You must be Castiel Novak. They said you'd be arriving today. Welcome to Mythology," the teacher said dryly.

Castiel glanced down at his timetable and found 'Mr Singer, Mythology and Latin' on the list of teachers. "Yes, Mr Singer," he said, pulling at a loose thread on the sleeve of his coat.

"Well, at least ya have some respect for your elders," Mr Singer grumbled, glaring at the rest of the class. "I would get ya to introduce yourself, but that'd be wasting both my time and yours, so take a seat." Castiel shuffled over to the seat closest to the teacher and sat down quickly, pulling out the books that had been listed when he received his letter containing the school's details.

Mr Singer heaved the now-closed book off his lap and onto the desk beside him with a _thud_. "Right. Now the _curriculum_ says that I'm meant to teach you about Greek mythology this half of the semester." The whole class groaned as one, Castiel included. He'd had enough of Daphne and Apollo to last a lifetime. 

" _However,_ " Mr Singer continued, "screw the curriculum. I'm gonna teach ya about Norse mythology instead. Now, turn to page 147, and we'll get on with it. Don't even think about it, Winchester," he said, his back now to the class. 

Castiel glanced behind him to see a boy with light brown hair and a smattering of freckles across his cheeks put down the paper he'd been balling up and turn to the kid next to him, muttering something like, "how the _hell_ did he see that?" Castiel turned to face forwards once again. He was here to learn, and he couldn't get distracted by the class clowns at the back.

***

The lesson ended far too soon, in Castiel's opinion. Mr Singer was a very good, if somewhat unconventional teacher, and even that Winchester kid in the back had quietened down and listened.

"Hey Winchester, get back here a minute," Castiel heard Mr Singer call, and he glanced up to see the back of the boy's leather jacket as he swanned up to the front of the class. Castiel made to leave, but Mr Singer called him back.

"No, no, you stay too Castiel." He put down his book on the table and turned to the two boys. "Right. Castiel, meet Dean Winchester. He's gonna show ya around for a couple days, just 'til you can find your way around. _No_ complaining," he said, holding a hand up to halt Dean's imminent protests. "I'm just doing what I'm told. Now get to your next lesson, both of you. I've got another class coming in," he said, picking up his book again.

Dean glared at Castiel, who hitched his bag further up his shoulder. He stalked out of the classroom without waiting for Castiel to follow, shoulders hunched.

 _Thud, thud, thud,_ went Dean's boots down the corridor. 

_Click-click, click-click, click-click,_ went Castiel's shoes behind him.

Castiel quickened his pace, struggling to keep up with Dean's long stride. He didn't dare say anything, considering how badly Dean had reacted to him before.

Dean stopped abruptly at a row of lockers, and turned to face Castiel. "Look, Castiel is it? You're pretty smart, I'm sure you can find your way around the school fine. I actually have a life and friends to get back to, and I _really_ don't have time to lead you round like a little lost lamb or something. Sorry." With that, he turned on his heel and swiftly walked in the opposite direction, leaving Castiel to stare after him open-mouthed.

 _Damn._ What was he going to do now? Despite Dean's insistence that he was smart enough to find his way around, geography had never been one of Castiel's best subjects, and he was having trouble trying to work out which way up he was supposed to hold the plan of the building.

Best find his locker, he thought to himself. It looked like it was along this row so he wouldn't have to go far. 

Reading the numbers as he walked along, Castiel almost walked straight into somebody, leaning against his locker talking to another student. "Sorry," Castiel muttered, staring at his shoes.

"It's cool man. Guess I'm leaning against your locker. Sorry," said a voice, and Castiel looked up to find himself face to face with a grinning boy of about his height or perhaps a little shorter. He had one hand shoved casually into the pocket of his jacket and what looked like a cherry lollipop hanging lazily out of his mouth. His tawny eyes sparkled a little as he eyed Castiel. 

Then he abruptly stuck out a hand. "Gabriel Shurley," he said, his easy smile unwavering.

"Novak. Castiel Novak." Castiel wasn't sure what made him take Gabriel's hand. Maybe it was the friendly grin, or maybe it was just the fact that he was hopelessly lost and could do with a hand finding his way around, but suddenly Gabriel's hand was in his own, and he shook it firmly.

"So," Gabriel said, moving away from Castiel's locker and opening the adjacent one. He swirled the lollipop around in his mouth noisily with a _slosh._

"You're new here." Castiel nodded slightly. 

“Yes, it’s my first day today.”

"Well, welcome to Lawrence High. Got anyone to show you around? I guess not, considering you're holding that plan of the building upside down." Gabriel chuckled. "Well I _gueeess_ we could show you around, right Jo?"

Castiel had completely forgotten that Gabriel had company. He turned to see a pretty girl with sharp brown eyes, glaring at Gabriel.

"Well, _you_ can show him around. I'd rather _not_ be harassed for the rest of the day." Then she grinned at him. "Go on, show the kid around. I've got Crowley next, can't be late. See you at lunch." 

With a brief wave over her shoulder, Jo was gone. Castiel followed her progress for a moment, before turning back to Gabriel. 

"So, um…"

"Right, yeah, showing you around a bit. Okay, what d'you have next?" Gabriel was still grinning. 

Castiel glanced down at his timetable. "Um, double art."

"Ah great, the opposite end of the building," Gabriel groaned. "I'm gonna be _so_ late!"

Castiel's words came out in a rush. "Look, you don't have to show me. I'm sure I can find my way. I mean, I have a plan. How hard can it be?"

Gabriel gently flipped the plan around, so that it was facing in the right direction. "Don't you worry, buddy boy, I'll show you to your next class." The easy smile was back, lighting up Gabriel's face. He slammed the door of his locker shut and looked at Castiel expectantly. 

Castiel repeated the action with his own locker, wincing at the harsh _slam_ of metal on metal. 

"That's it! You're practically a native already! Now, to art," Gabriel exclaimed, grabbing Castiel's arm and dragging him away from the lockers. Castiel moved to give himself more space, and Gabriel moved with him. 

"Sooo, Castiel. You any good at art?"

"I suppose."

"Awesome. Me, I haven't got an artistic bone in my body! That's why I stuck to languages. They're not bad. And then there's gym, I guess. It's okay here. I mean, you can get by alright." Gabriel glanced at Castiel. "You don't exactly look the sporty type, though." He laughed at Castiel's sour expression, holding his hands up in surrender. "Sorry man. I just imagine you stuck behind a desk, reading books about crusty old dudes and their crazy stories of eight-legged horses or whatever."

"I resent that," Castiel muttered, scowling. But the expression was wiped off his face as soon as he saw the art room. He would finally have time to relax, and not have to concentrate too hard. He was relatively good at drawing without having to try too hard, and so he usually sketched lazily, not bothering to draw a definitive outline or add much shading. 

"Well, I gotta go, but I'll come find you after class, yeah?" With that Gabriel walked off in the other direction, leaving Castiel to enter the art room. 

Glancing around, he could only see a couple of free seats, the closest next to a girl with fiery red hair sketching furiously on some loose sheets of paper.

_Scritch scritch._

"Um, do you mind if I sit here?" Castiel was almost afraid to approach this girl, pencilling in shapes so freely and determinedly.

_Scritch scritch._

The girl looked up then, grinning. "Of course not! Sorry, don't mind my sketching. I'm Charlie. And I guess you're Castiel, the new kid?"

"Um, yes. How did you know?"

"Because Dean here has been moaning in my ear about having to show you around," Charlie said teasingly, nudging her neighbour.

It was only then that Castiel noticed Dean sitting on Charlie’s other side, his back hunched.

"Dean?" Castiel wasn't really sure what to say, considering this was the boy who had completely abandoned him in the corridor a little while earlier. 

Dean looked up at the sound of his name, his gaze meeting Castiel's. He gulped visibly, a hostile scowl replacing his previously guilty expression and marring his features. He stood up abruptly, grabbing his books and nodding to Charlie before moving to the other spare desk, in the corner of the room. 

"Ignore him," Charlie said, shuffling her sketches around on the table. "He's just cranky right now." Castiel nodded solemnly. He wasn't sure quite what to make of Charlie, but again, instinct took over, and he smiled slightly at her, just for a second. Charlie positively _beamed_ in response.

***

Art passed quickly, much to Castiel's dismay. Charlie had continued chattering away to him after Dean’s abrupt departure, and she was able to draw a little more than monosyllabic responses out of him, much to Castiel’s own surprise.

"Hey, Castiel," Charlie called to him as he was slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

"Yes?" He half turned, glancing back at Charlie.

"Do you have anyone to show you arou-"

"Yeah, he does actually," Gabriel said smoothly, wandering into the art classroom and grinning at the two. "Hey Charlie. How was art?"

"It was great thanks, Gabriel! How was…"

"Math," Gabriel cut in, groaning. "Uriel was a dick as usual. Why did I even take it in the first place?"

"You two know each other?" Castiel looked between them, surprised.

"Know each other? Please, we know _everything_ about each other. Been friends since way back when."

"Yes, because you _hit me_ over the head with a _shovel_ in the sand pit, Gabe!" Charlie pretended to frown at him, but Castiel could see the corners of her mouth twitching upwards. 

"Details, details. Anyway. Lunch. _Now._ " Gabriel's stomach growled loudly, and even Castiel laughed a little. 

"Sounds good to me. Hey, Gabriel, we can introduce him to the others too!"

"Sure can! But I need food, and I need it now. C’mon Charlie, Cas." 

_Cas._ Castiel weighed up this new nickname in his mind. It was certainly less of a mouthful than _Castiel._ What was more, Gabriel had given him the nickname, and that had to count for something, surely? Yes, he liked the name Cas.

"Hey guys," Charlie called across the quad, waving to a group of four students stretched out on the grass. Cas couldn't see any point in eating outside, seeing as the grass was wet and it was absolutely freezing, and said as much. 

Charlie laughed at him in apparent disbelief and said, "we always eat outside, always have. It's our tradition." Cas looked down at his shoes.

As the three of them walked closer to the group on the grass a boy of about fourteen left the group's midst and ran over, grinning.

"Gabriel, Charlie! Hey!"

"Cas, meet Sam Winchester," Gabriel said, ruffling Sam's hair and causing him to squirm. "And over there's Jo Harvelle, who you met by the lockers earlier with me, Eileen Leahy, who's in Sam's class, and of course you know Dean.”

Cas grimaced. He had hoped he would be able to avoid Dean for the rest of the day, but apparently not. 

"Huh," he said, his shoulders drooping slightly. 

Gabriel noticed the change and gave him a reassuring – if you could call it that – punch on the arm. "Chill, man. What's up with you and Dean-o?"

"He was-"

"Bobby told me to show him the ropes, but seeing as I don't have time to fret over newbies, _especially_ pain-in-the-ass ones like him, I left for art. Knew some poor soul would find him sometime." Dean's voice startled Cas. He hadn't realised that ‘Dean-o’ was paying attention to their conversation. 

"Now now, Dean, that wasn't very nice, was it?" Gabriel wagged his finger mockingly, then flung an arm around Cas. "Kid's alright by me."

"Yeah?" Dean's voice shifted up a notch. "Well, if you like him so much, I'll leave you guys to make daisy chains in the grass. See you around, Gabe, Charlie." With a brief wave to the others, Dean heaved his bag up from the floor and turned towards another area of the quad, shoulders hunched. 

"What did I do?" Cas tipped his head to the side, staring after Dean in confusion.

"Ah, don't worry about him. He'll come ‘round, sooner or later. But for now, lunch!" Gabriel withdrew his arm from around Cas and practically sprinted to the two girls who were still lying in the grass, Charlie following. Sam, however, moved to stand next to Cas.

"I'm sorry about my brother, Cas. He's not great with people." This was accompanied by a grimace and a comforting pat on the arm before Sam joined the others too, glancing over his shoulder at Cas. Suitably reassured, he followed, and began to eat his lunch next to Gabriel and Sam.

***

_Crash._

Dean looked up from his nigh-on-impossible homework.

_Bang. Smash._

His dad was home. _Great._

Flipping his textbook closed with a sigh, he pushed his chair back and stood up, stretching his arms above his head. He moved towards the door and opened it a little so that a sliver of the stairs was visible.

_Thump._

At least he had found the couch, then. Dean sighed, too tired for this. He let the door fall open fully and padded across the hallway to the top of the stairs. 

"Dean?" His father's voice was slurred; more so than the night before, Dean determined. He leaned over the banister a little. 

"Yeah, Dad?"

"We got 'ny beer or…" John Winchester trailed off.

"In the fridge," Dean grunted. 

"Go get it?"

"Get it yourself," Dean snapped, stomping across the landing and slamming his bedroom door.

_Smash._

The tinkle of broken glass that followed made him turn to his dresser. A picture frame had toppled off and onto the floor, the glass going everywhere. 

Dean swore as he picked his way over, grabbing an old t-shirt as he passed the pile of clothes on his chair. Pulling the frame off the glassy floor, he placed it face down on the dresser. Then he set about picking up the larger pieces of glass and throwing them in the trash bag that he had meant to take out a couple of days ago. 

When he had finished, he used a nearby can to break away the rest of the glass, tipped it into the trash and sat down on his bed, holding the now-glassless frame.

His mother was so beautiful. He had always been amazed that one human being could look that angelic, a feeling that he always got when he looked at that picture in particular. It was a family photo, from just before Sam and Dean's mother had died. Their father was standing next to her, his arm around her, and Dean was grinning widely by his side. Sam was just a baby in his mother's arms. 

They looked… peaceful. Fewer wrinkles on his dad's forehead and around his eyes, a sense of laziness about the whole scene. They looked… happy. 

_I wish Mom were still here._ The thought caught Dean off-guard and he shook his head to clear it, not wanting to dwell on the past.

_Clink, clink._

Dean was shaken out of his reverie by the tinkling of bottles.

"Ugh, whatever." Dean ran a hand through his hair, before swiping a jacket from the pile of clothes and heading downstairs. 

"Where're you goin'?"

"Out, Dad."

"Out?"

"Yeah." Dean wrenched the door open and stepped out, inhaling deeply. Even car exhaust fumes and trash smelled better than the stench of three-day-old alcohol and anger. But he could already smell the tang of vodka and unwashed bodies mingling together. It seemed like as good a night as ever to get completely wasted and stumble home completely intoxicated in the early hours of the morning. Again.

***

_Click. Creeeeeeeeak._

Cas peered into the dark hallway.

"Hello?" Silence. He let out a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding, before flicking the lights on and stepping over the threshold into his house. He quickly slipped his shoes off and pushed them hastily onto the rack by the door, before padding quietly down the hallway towards the large staircase.

_Thump._

His bag now sitting at the foot of the stairs, Cas wandered into the kitchen and flicked on the lights, making for the still-unpacked box of glasses sitting in the middle of the worktop. He grabbed one at random, eyeing it critically to make sure that there was no dust. 

The fridge made a satisfying _whooooof_ noise as he pulled it open, selecting a carton of orange juice and pouring himself a glass. Returning to the worktop to lean against it while he drank, Cas noticed a note tucked under a corner of the box, his mother's elegant script just visible. He pulled the note out and read it quickly. 

_Castiel,_

_I will be out visiting friends by the time that you get home. Also, your father told me to tell you that he'll be out late again._

_Love, your mother_

Cas glanced over the note once more before scrunching it up with a _crinkle-crunch._ The balled-up note was thrown in the trash in the corner, and Cas sighed. It wasn't unusual for his mother to be out visiting friends; far from it. Nor was it unusual for his father to be working late. Thankfully both his brothers were also out as usual; Cas would have the house to himself. 

Placing his now-empty glass in the sink, he wondered whether he ought to unpack the glasses and other kitchen utensils, and then dismissed the thought. Flicking off the lights, Cas exited the kitchen and made for his room, glancing around at his new house as he did so. It wasn't so very different from his former house – walls painted in neutral colours; large arched windows which would let in a lot of natural light in the summer, he imagined; a showy, grand staircase which led to the bedrooms, the other bathrooms and his father's study. 

Cas was well aware that his family was really rather rich and privileged, but he had never really given it much thought. He had always lived in nice houses, had always had everything he wanted or needed. It wasn't that he took it for granted – he knew that he was luckier than most kids his age, and he was glad that he had been so fortunate. He had just never really cared for money and wealth and didn't really care for it now. In fact, he didn't really care for much apart from getting a good education and then a good job, so that he could move out as soon as possible. 

No, that wasn't _all_ he cared about, a nagging voice in the back of his head told him. He cared about his old friends too, especially Balthazar, whom he had had to leave further and further behind every time he moved. 

And now, it seemed, he cared about the people he had met today. As great as the majority of his former friends had been, he felt more… connected to the people he had met during his first day at his new school. Perhaps he didn't have all that much in common with them, and yes, perhaps they weren't the kind of company that his parents would want him to keep. But almost everyone had accepted him straight away, and he had hope that maybe, just maybe, they would become his friends. 

By the time Cas had finished this internal monologue of sorts, he had reached his room.

Letting the door swing shut behind him with a _creeeak_ and a _thud_ , Cas placed his bag on his bed and sat cross-legged opposite it. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he retrieved it hastily, remembering guiltily that he had promised Balthazar that he would tell him how his first day had gone. 

Typing out a quick reply to his friend's irate message, Cas shoved his phone in his pocket and mulled over the day's events once more. It would seem that he had found firm friends in Gabriel and Charlie, and also Sam, even though the boy was younger. The girls had seemed nice too, though he hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know them. 

Dean, however, puzzled Cas. Both Gabriel and Charlie seemed surprised by his hostility towards Cas, which would imply that Dean wasn't normally that… well, _obnoxious_. But why, then, had he treated Cas like dirt?

He sighed, pushing the thought aside. The school was great, and the rest of Dean's friends were nice, so why worry about one kid among many? Surely they could both be civil?

Cas burrowed under the bedclothes, deciding that he would pick up his school bag in the morning. He was far too tired to attempt his homework, and he wanted to be ready to face the next day of his new life in Lawrence, Kansas.

**Author's Note:**

> So, yes, that was that! (It’s a bit of a mess, but what the hell.) Thank you for reading! Feel free to drop by and say hi on twitter (@hetheyharkness) or tumblr (kingisdead), should you so desire it. Comments, kudos etc. are very much appreciated! Have a great day :D


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